I learned to type on a Royal manual machine, but I longed for the typewriter sitting in the back room of my father's office--and nearly abandoned: it was an Underwood. My mother said you couldn't type on the thing and sent it to the dump the year she took over my father's business. No one asked me what I thought. My mother thought I was crazy to cry over a typewriter.
From the Gizmodo story:
"Typewriters are intricate machines—complex little boxes that require an abundance of ingenuity to produce. They are often beautiful, and they occasionally find wildly imaginative ways to conduct the delicate dance between the hammers and the keys."